


Out of Control

by Wolfsbride



Series: Five F*cking Times by tayryn [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:37:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orgasms all around!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts), [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Five F*cking Times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995822) by [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn). 



Olivia Mansfield sat in her living room, in a plush chair that faced her husband’s, and stared at him while he read his newspaper. Or rather, she stared at the newspaper her husband was reading, as he was holding it like a shield in front of his face. She thought idly that his desire to hide from her was the result of what had happened between them earlier in the week. He’d been skittish with her since, as if he expected her to repeat the performance that had unsettled him so. 

Sighing, Olivia shifted in her chair. It didn’t help that she was still sore from the fucking Bond had given her earlier in Dimitrios’ office. When she’d taken off her work clothes, she’d stared at her reflection for a long time. Her nipples had been red from Bond biting at them and the skin around them abraded from the rasp of his stubble. Even now the fabric of her blouse moving against them as she breathed caused tiny tingles to settle low. 

She eyed her husband as he turned another page of his newspaper and cursed Bond for the umpteenth time since this whole fiasco had started. She’d resisted him for ages and then thrown it all away in one moment of weakness, that for the life of her she couldn’t seem to regain control over. It was as though that night in her flat had broken down the wall she’d built around her old self. Though she supposed she really shouldn’t be surprised. Bond did have a habit of breaking things. 

The problem was, she wasn’t sure she could fix this; put things back to the way they were. It was one thing to harbour an attraction to Bond. She was old, not dead. However, she had not expected the attraction to be mutual. In fact, if not for her experience in reading people, she would have thought Bond to be playing some sort game with her. But no, she was quite certain his desire was sincere. 

It left her with a dilemma, though there shouldn’t be one. Intellectually, she knew she shouldn’t be cheating on her husband, but physically, her body wanted him. It was no longer enough to fantasize about Bond in the privacy of her mind in order to bring a little excitement to her staid, pedestrian sex life. The reality of him was too deliciously pleasurable.

It reminded her too much of her years as a Double-0. It was during her training that she had realized how much she enjoyed sex, making her a natural for the honeypot missions at which she excelled. As she’d moved up the ladder though, she’d come to the conclusion that she would have to put away that part of herself if she wanted to succeed. 

Hypocritical as it was, the idea of the day was that women could not possibly hold positions of power due to being over emotional creatures, at the mercy of their hormones. It was laughable really. In her experience, it was men that were easily led by their bodies. 

She’d married Reginald mostly because he was a respectable man, and by way of association with him, she became respectable as well in the eyes of those that mattered. It also helped that he was mild mannered, and had no urge to pry into her work affairs as she could not share them with him in any case. He didn’t fuss when she was late, or didn’t come home at all. 

She’d got used to her once a week sex life. She felt it was part of the sacrifices she’d had to make to be where she wanted to be. Her life was no longer about missions and marks. She’d put away that part of herself. Until Bond. She wasn’t sure she could shut Olivia Jeffries away again. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

The snap of Reginald’s newspaper being folded away drew Olivia from her reverie. She was a bit mortified to realize she’d drifted the whole time her husband had been reading. Especially with the way he was eyeing her. She wondered what sort of expression she’d had on her face. 

“Bedtime, dear.” Standing, Reginald gave her a pointed look. “No funny business.” 

Olivia stood as well, and refrained from rolling her eyes. Only Reginald would consider spontaneous sex to be ‘funny business’. “Yes, Reginald. I think I’ll use the guest bathroom to change so as not to disturb you.”

“Thank you, darling.” 

Olivia followed him, joining him in their bedroom long enough to pick up her silk pyjamas, before going to the guest bathroom. Closing the door, she locked it and methodically went through her cleansing regime. When she was finished, she washed her hands and then stripped off her evening clothes. 

Bringing both hands to her breasts, she pinched her nipples sharply, remembering how it had felt both times to have Bond lavishing his attention on them. And her pussy! One hand dropped quickly between her legs and she shoved two fingers inside to rub at her still sensitive walls. Christ, but he had stretched her wide and filled her right up. 

She bit her lip to muffle her whine of need. Her fingers weren’t nearly enough but she didn’t dare get out her toy box from where she had it locked away. It was Bond’s comment about eating her out that had her grinding down on her fingers and palm, and fucking herself rapidly to climax. 

Slumping against the counter, she breathed heavily for several minutes. What a devil Bond had loosed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bond stood naked in front of his bathroom mirror looking at the bruises that decorated his face. However, it wasn’t those particular marks that held his attention. He rolled his shoulders slowly, relishing the tightness of slight welts that covered his back. When M had clawed him, it had added an extra zing of heat to the action of fucking her. Then she’d done it again and grabbed his arse as well! 

Turning, he looked over his shoulder. In the mirror, he could see eight red rows running from the tops of his shoulders to his waist. The view in the mirror didn’t allow him to see, but he could very well imagine the fingernail sized indentations on his rear. Both sets of marks throbbed a little, and it felt as though M had claimed him by branding him with her passion.

That thought got him throbbing in a totally different way as he remembered how she had responded to him. Groaning, he wrapped a hand around his rapidly hardening prick and jerked himself off to thoughts of fucking M. He wondered how long she would let him get away with it. Long enough to fulfil his desire to eat her out he hoped. 

The thought of kneeling or lying between M’s legs and licking her to orgasm just added fuel to the fire, and he had to grab the counter with his free hand as he came. It was several minutes before he recovered enough to clean himself off and go to bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Morning found Bond awaking from the most sensuous dream. His reality was more ascetic. To his dismay, his fantasy M faded away and he was left fucking his bed like a randy teenager. Too far gone to stop, he ground hips into his mattress and rocked himself to climax.

Afterwards, he rolled over and palmed his sticky cock. “Bloody fucking hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> My usual thanks to Pers and Tay!


End file.
